


Will We, Won't We

by doobler



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 23:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17375474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doobler/pseuds/doobler
Summary: "I'm getting old, Stephen. I can't do these will-we-won't-we type things anymore, I need. I need some solid answers."





	Will We, Won't We

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mokiwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokiwrites/gifts).



Something felt wrong. The colors were off, the music too loud, so many bodies close together, everything like metal on metal and screeching together.

Tony rubbed at his temples, ordering another martini. He drank it in one heavy gulp, inhaling slowly to stir the burn in his throat. His shirt felt too tight and his sleeves were too short, not to mention the heels of his feet were being chaffed by his shoes. He missed when parties like this set his heart on fire. He missed being in the spotlight, even when it was small, chatting it up like social butterfly he'd always been.

Now it was all just... Wrong. Uncomfortable. Askew.

Then Stephen walked in.

The hot air that was slowly suffocating him became cool and fresh, like crystalline water on a summer's day. Colors brightened, the music swelled, everything shifted back into place. Was this healthy? Tony didn't give a damn in that moment. The party sucked but Stephen had finally arrived and that's all that mattered.

The sorcerer greeted guests as he passed, all suave easy charm and a blinding smile. He looked ethereal, donning a long red cape that fell down his shoulders and slim fitting navy dress pants. His shoes were sharp, buffed to shine, and the gold clasps that adorned his cloak shimmered like polished gems. He lifted his head, making eye contact, and waved. Tony's heart soared. He stood, paralyzed, as Stephen cut through the crowd to meet him.

"Evening, Stark," He purred, dipping his head to peer through his lashes. "It's weird seeing you alone, you doing okay?"

"Hey," Tony replied, trying his best to seem nonchalant. "Yeah, I'm kinda. Out of it, I dunno. Work's been gettin' me down."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Coworkers pissing you off or somethin'?"

Tony snorted, clamping a hand over his mouth and nose. Stephen simpled chuckled, shaking his head.

"You were great on that last little mission by the way, despite your best efforts to fuck everything up."

"Hey, hey, don't you start there,  _Houdini_ ," Tony countered, waggling his finger. "Who's the robot guy?  _I'm_  the robot guy. It was your fault none of you listened to my advice."

"Welcome to my world then,  _Turing_."

They shared a laugh, light and warm, before going quiet.

"The music's nice." Stephen spoke up.

Was it? It sounded like a bad attempt at making pop sound more classical. A remix that didn't necessarily flow.

"Yeah." Tony hummed.

"... Would you... Like to dance?"

Tony hesitated. He was surrounded by coworkers here, Avengers, SHIELD agents, goverment representatives. It was a bland party trying too hard to be hip. It was stagnant and unpleasant and awkard.

He took Stephen's outstretched hand.

"You bet I would."

 

The floor was surprisingly crowded, mostly with drunken old men swooning over much younger women. As they took their position, the music changed, a slow easy swell of strings and brass. Tony stiffened as a warm hand settled at his waist and another interlaced with his own. They swayed a bit in place, a slight bubble of space between them.

"How are things with Pepper? I've been meaning to ask."

"Oh? Oh," Tony blinked rapidly, trying to pull himself back to the present. "They're fine, we're. Fine. Still y'know. Friends, very good friends, just uh. Y'know."

"I getcha, don't worry," Stephen spun them in a slow circle, avoiding a couple nearby. "That shit can be complicated but I think Pepper is plenty mature for the both of you."

"You're not wrong," Tony laughed brightly. "How 'bout you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, I mean," Tony pulled them closer together, using his hips to swing them the other way. "There was Logan and that ended kinda... Rough. And Hank also was... Difficult."

"Oh. Yeah," Stephen dropped his gaze slightly and Tony felt his heart sink. "Hank and I still meet once a week, we're getting a lot of work done. He doesn't seem any different than before so. We're fine. Logan... Hasn't really spoken to me much. But I'm not too worried, Jean says he just needs time and some space. I do... Y'know. Part of me wishes it could've at least ended better."

Tony nodded, a jolt of something undefinable surging through his heart as Stephen tucked his face into the curve of his neck. They swayed in time with the music, in time with each other, nice and slow and easy. Tony found himself nosing at charcoal locks, admiring the softness, the smell of a floral shampoo, the delicate gradient from black to silver. Stephen was lithe and warm against him, constantly emanating a natural power that sometimes overwhelmed his senses.

"What are we doing?" Tony sighed, pillowing his cheek against the crown of Stephen's head.

"Hm?"

The sorcerer lifted his gaze, eyes wide and curious.

"Us. This," Tony continued. "We've been... Dancing around each other for months now. Since Pepper and I separated, well before you and Logan, and even through that-- I don't. I'm not."

"Do you want me to back off?"

"No, I--" Tony huffed, frustrated. "No. I just. I'm getting old, Stephen. I can't do these will-we-won't-we type things anymore, I need. I need some solid answers and--"

Stephen dipped his head, pressing his lips against Tony's. The world came to a complete stop around him. Stephen tasted like sweet mint and green tea and something unknown but spicy and sharp. His lips were soft, rose petal almost, and smooth and so warm. He must use a ton of chapstick to get lips so unbelievably soft. He didn't push, merely maintaining gentle contact, tilting his head a fraction to ease the strain on his neck.

When Stephen finally pulled back, he was smiling, an adorable wrinkle forming across the bridge of his nose.

"Solid enough for you?"

Before Tony could reply, a SHIELD agent sidled up beside them, tugging on Stephen's cape and whispering in his ear. He huffed and rolled his eyes, muttering angrily before letting out a tired sigh.

"I'm sorry, Anthony," Stephen's smile was sad. "But duty calls."

"Maybe we can. I dunno. You uh. Maybe. Uhh. Later."

"Maybe."

With that, he was gone, vanishing into the crowd behind the swish of his cloak. Tony exhaled, air leaving his lungs in a heavy puff. He palmed at the space above his heart, kneading his fingers into the tight muscles there. A weird heaviness hung over his breast. He dug into his pocket, pushing aside the little handkerchief there, and pulled out a card.

 

_(212)-576-4000_

_Here's my personal number_

_For later_

_Maybe_

Tony swallowed thickly as butterflies swarmed in the pit of his gut. He laughed, shaking his head, and tucked the card back into his pocket.

Definitely solid enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! I'm also doobler over on tumblr if you ever wanna say hi


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